And who are you to stop me? Come, make way--
Come, woman, let me pass.

PHŒBE:
I--I’m Jim’s bride.

JUDITH:
And what should Jim’s bride have to say to me?
Come, let me by.

PHŒBE:
You shall not go.

JUDITH:
Come, lass.
You do not ken me for the thing I am:
If you but guessed, you’d fling the door wide open,
And draw your petticoats about you tight,
Lest any draggletail of mine should smutch them.
I never should have come ’mid decent folk:
I never should have crawled out of the ditch.
You little ken ...

PHŒBE:
I heard your name. I’ve heard
That name before.

JUDITH:
You heard no good of it,
Whoever spoke.